Bitter Thoughts
by CommodoreZelda13
Summary: Ugh, how disgusting. This whole twisted situation. I still can’t figure out exactly how it happened." Lloyd shares his thoughts on his past and his present situation. Oneshot. Lloyd POV.


**Okay, my first real fic is finally written!! Actually, Mystic Yoshie told me I had to write something, and this is what happened. Read and review, please!! BTW, I quite obviously don't own Tales of Symphonia or the sequel.**

**Lloyd POV. Oneshot.**

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Ugh, how disgusting. This whole twisted situation. I still can't figure out exactly how it happened.

Two years ago, when we finally combined the worlds, I let myself hope. Yeah, I knew that there was still a lot of work to be done, and I would have to be the one to do most of it. Still, optimistic idiot I was, I thought that maybe things were actually gonna work out.

Well, didn't my hopes get crushed fast.

No one knew how hard it was for me to keep going through that journey. They all looked up to me, all expected me to know what to do next. Yeah, right. I was about as ready to break down as the rest of them.

Now I'm faced with another shitty situation, and, even though they think _I'm _the one causing it, they still want me to fix it all. And, of course, I have to. They're gonna do the best they can—and probably just screw it up more in the process—and then I have to burst in and save the day again. Just like last time.

It's always gonna be me, isn't it?

And I hate how, even though they think I'll solve everything, they don't even trust me. When they see me, it's not, "Hey Lloyd, tell us what you need." It's, "Lloyd, what's going on? Why are you doing this? Why did you attack Palmacosta?" They claim they know me, know what I would and wouldn't do, but they can't even freaking _believe_ the crap coming out of their mouths most of the time. They don't know what I wouldn't stoop to. Hell, half the time I don't know either.

I'm not strong. I'm not the hero they think I am—no, that they want me to be. I did the best I could before, but I screwed up. A lot. And it almost killed me. Yeah, I mean that literally, I guess, but that's not the only way. At night, when I had watch or they thought I was asleep, it just kept playing over and over in my head: everything I did wrong, every single mistake I made, every situation I couldn't control. I'm honestly surprised I didn't go insane. Maybe I did, and I'm only finding out now.

Because it still hasn't stopped. I still obsess over how my idiot moves got my friends hurt, nearly killed. How I'm still screwing things up now.

I was always the lovable idiot. Everyone thought that about me, from before the journey started until long after it was over. They could laugh at me. They didn't know it hurt. No one realized what it did to me. I kept a good face up because there wasn't another option. I let them, because I could see how it kept their spirits up. I know they weren't doing it on purpose, and I don't blame them for it. Times were hard, and if that kept them from losing hope, then it was the least I could do to let them keep going. None of my friends knew that when they laughed at me, my stupidity, they stabbed at my insecurities. They didn't know how ashamed I was, how it made me feel like I wasn't good enough to be around them. Like I said, they didn't realize what they were doing to me. If they did, I know they would have stopped.

After a while though, I think they saw that. Because eventually it did stop. Somehow, that almost makes it worse. Maybe they see that I'm not exactly who they thought I was. Maybe I see it too.

Still, through the idiocy, they somehow thought of me as some kind of icon, some beam of hope for the worlds. To them, nothing fazed me. If I was knocked down, I stood right back up, stronger than before. If something was wrong, I wouldn't stop until I made it right. I was the idealist, the optimist, the champion of both worlds. I was never discouraged. I never gave up.

I guess to a point they were right. I didn't give up, not when they were there to keep me going. I wouldn't stand for the shit that was happening in front of my eyes. I fought for everyone that was suffering, but mostly, it was for them. Because they're the reason I always got back up again. On my own, I would have been crushed. One day, I would be hit, and I would stay down. I wouldn't have the strength to punch back. I would fall again, and the world would spit in my face and keep on turning as I lay on the ground wondering why. Without them, without the friends I work so hard to protect, I'm nothing.

How am I supposed to keep fighting now, when no one's on my side?

A lot of things over the years nearly broke me. Especially during the journey, all the secrets revealed, all the masks ripped away. I kept going because they needed me to, because if I didn't, they probably couldn't either. But it was agony. When your friends lie to you, deceive you, it tears something. Something vital. Moving on was almost impossible for me.

And yet, the hardest thing was after the worlds were reunited, the time when everything was supposed to work out. Dad left. After everything that happened, how he said he wouldn't run away anymore, the bastard left. He abandoned me, just like before. And I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive him for it.

I still have the locket he gave me. I haven't opened it since he left.

He thought I'd be able to handle all this. He honestly believed that I could survive on my own, that I'd be able to do everything needed to keep the new world on track. I can't, obviously. If I could, I wouldn't be here now, struggling to keep going while blame is thrown at me from every side.

I thought he'd be here to help, to talk to. He'd be able to understand things that no one else does. Right now, he's the _only_ one I'd be able to confide in, and he's not even here.

I can't explain to anyone else anymore. My refuges keep getting torn away from me.

I can understand now why Mithos did what he did. I understand it perfectly. I don't agree with it, but it still makes sense. He lost his sister, the person that meant the most to him, and he did what was in his power to do to get her back. If I were in his situation, I'm not sure how I could let it go. If there was something I could do to fix things, I don't think I could let it go. What he did was wrong, but there's no way I can blame him for doing it.

And I know how he felt at the end; his sister gone, his friends abandoned him, turned against him. Because right now, the same thing is happening to me. We all went through so much together, and now, when it matters, they're gone. I did everything I could for them, and they leave me here to deal with this all by myself.

So here I am, left alone again. I shouldn't be surprised. It happened at the beginning of my life, it's happening now, and it'll happen again in the future. Still I stand, by myself, staring into the darkness I have to fight back. I'm not sure if I have the strength to do it this time.


End file.
